


Waiting

by earlgreytea68



Category: Shenanigans (Original Universe)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11769483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: You want to be in love so badly that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re already there.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> And then there was that time I decided Elliot shouldn't get anyone at all and we should just stick his warring love interests together...

At one of Blake’s monthly-weekly parties, Jonah happened to mention that he’d undertaken directing a high school production of _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat_ , and Elliot wrinkled his nose and said, “Lloyd Webber? Really?” but Nicholas said, “That sounds adorable. Where are you doing it?” and it turned out that the high school was near Nicholas’s med school, so that when Jonah texted with, _I have time to kill. Any chance you want to escape med school in favor of alcohol?_ , Nicholas replied with, _Yes_.

Nicholas was having the kind of day when escaping sounded like a great idea. He gave Jonah the address of a dive bar down the street, ordinarily filled with med students but they were early enough to have beaten the rush.

Jonah said, when Nicholas walked in, “Look at you, suggesting a hole in the wall.”

Nicholas said, “Can I convince you to slum it?”

“I have enthusiastically slummed for far more dubious fellows,” replied Jonah generously.

Nicholas laughed and dropped into the chair next to Jonah and gestured for a beer and then sighed.

Jonah said, “Tough day?”

Nicholas said, “The human body is extraordinarily complex. Did you know that?”

“More complex than the human mind?” asked Jonah.

“What an excellent question,” said Nicholas. “A question for when I am not taking a break from excellent questions.”

Jonah laughed and said, “Fair enough. Shall I stick to only the most basic questions? What’s two plus two? Et cetera?”

“Tell me about _Joseph_ and his coat of many colors.”

“Joseph is currently having a torrid affair with his father. I mean, as torrid as it gets between teenage boys.”

Nicholas said, “This is way better than med school, tell me more.”

And that was how it started.

By the time Elliot started having podcast meltdowns, Nicholas had to admit that maybe the drinks with Jonah had become a regular thing.

“Elliot seems kind of obsessed with the podcast,” Jonah said.

Nicholas shrugged. “Elliot’s just being Elliot. ‘Obsessed’ is a strong word.”

“What would you prefer? ‘Single-mindedly fixated with little provocation’?”

“Sounds like the definition of ‘obsessed,’” Nicholas said.

“If the shoe fits,” Jonah said.

Nicholas said, “The wit level of that response makes me think you’ve been working on _Joseph_ too long.”

“Ha,” said Jonah.

***

“Do you think it’s a good idea to have Elliot running the social media for the podcast?” Jonah asked during their next drinks session.

“Hazel asked him,” Nicholas said blankly.

“I’m aware. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

Nicholas frowned. “If you didn’t think it was a good idea, you probably should have talked to Hazel about it.”

“I did talk to Hazel about it. Hazel thinks our Elliot is an innocent lambkin who would never hurt a fly.”

“Whereas you think he’s a Machiavellian genius who’s going to _The-Prince_ his way into tremendous power over...what? A podcast? It’s hardly the Florentine Republic.”

“But what is these days?” asked Jonah drily.

Nicholas said, “You do realize the truth of Elliot is somewhere in between those two extremes.”

“It’s so very Goldilocks of him. And the rest of us wait to see how much he steamrolls over Hazel and wrests control of this podcast.”

“I’ll watch out for that,” Nicholas said. “I’ll call him on it.”

Jonah snorted and said, “Will you?”

Nicholas said, “And what does that mean?”

“You have a blind spot for Elliot a mile wide,” Jonah replied.

“Oh,” Nicholas retorted. “And on the subject of Elliot you’re so very unbiased that you couldn’t even stand to finish out your lease before moving away from him.”

Jonah opened and closed his mouth, then said tightly, “Point.”

Nicholas said wearily, “Let’s call it a tie.” And then, “Elliot doesn’t even _want_ control of the podcast.”

***

“He’s calling Sebastian Sébastien,” said Jonah. “He literally _re-named the main character_.”

“Okay,” Nicholas allowed. “Maybe that was a bit much.”

***

Jonah said, clearly unhappy, “I swear to Christ, if you don’t rein him in, I will.”

Nicholas said, “These drinks were supposed to be _less_ stressful than the rest of my life.”

“And the podcast was supposed to be a fucking lark,” Jonah said. “And instead Hazel’s rowing upstream and Elliot’s pell-mell changing storylines on social media.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Nicholas said. “The story is still the story Hazel wants to tell, and I think it’s better now that--”

“Maybe that wasn’t the point,” said Jonah scathingly. “Maybe the point was to give Hazel room to make some mistakes and figure this out for herself so she could come back next time and be better _then_. Maybe your boyfriend is--”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” said Nicholas.

“Right,” said Jonah. “Yes. Of course. How could I forget? You know why Elliot’s so obsessed with this podcast, right?”

“Because it’s a shenanigan,” said Nicholas.

“Because it’s something _you’re_ paying attention to. Any-fucking-thing that takes your attention away from Elliot for two seconds must be _dealt with_ , in Elliot’s view. And that’s what he’s doing, running roughshod over everyone because God forbid you might look briefly at someone else, never mind have a whole _conversation_ with another human being.”

“Elliot isn’t like that--” Nicholas began.

“Do you tell him? How often we meet for drinks?” challenged Jonah.

Nicholas hesitated, then said, “Why would I have to tell him? I don’t tell him everything I--”

Jonah’s smile was more of a twist of his lips than a smile, decidedly not nice. He said, “I didn’t think you told him. You’re smart, you know. You’re in fucking medical school. You do have a sense of self-preservation. You’ve asked yourself, even if you don’t want to admit it, what Elliot would do if he knew just how often we have drinks.”

“Look,” Nicholas said, “Elliot is just enthusiastic, and likes to hang out with friends, and--”

“You know what I don’t get about you?” Jonah asked suddenly.

“What?” asked Nicholas warily.

“What the fuck are you _waiting_ for?” said Jonah. “You’re smart, and funny, and sexy. I’ve watched women spill out of their tops trying to give you their numbers. I’ve watched men practically spread peacock feathers to grab your attention. There’s a whole world out there, Nicholas, full of people who--”

“Is it so inconceivable to you,” Nicholas snapped sharply, “that maybe there are some things in life more important than sex? Like, gold star, Jonah, I’m so happy you have a new one-night stand three or four times a week. You win. But that’s you. Maybe I don’t want that. Maybe I want something more than that. Maybe I want--”

“You do want something more,” Jonah said, and leaned forward, pinning Nicholas in against the bar, abruptly so close that Nicholas could barely find space for air in between them. He dropped his voice, a low intimate curl just for the two of them. “You do want more. I know that. It’s obvious about you. You could get sucked off in any men’s room in the city, if you wanted to, and it might do you some good honestly, but it wouldn’t make you happy. Do you think I don’t get that about you? I get that. But I’ll tell you what you want.” Jonah reached out his index finger, traced just the tip of it, lightly, lightly, barely there, along Nicholas’s jaw, and then did it again, a bit rougher, just to rasp against his stubble. “You want to be kissed, wet and deep, until there isn’t any breath left in you. You want teeth at the nape of your neck, scraping a reminder against your skin. You want fingers to brush your hips and find bruises there from the night before. You want all these little touches--holding hands on street corners, nudges against each other while you’re making dinner together, fingers carding through your hair while you watch TV together at night.” Jonah’s hand shifted, fingers carding through his hair just as he was describing, before he left his hand along the back of Nicholas’s neck, fingertips pressing bluntly into his skin. “All of those little touches adding up to how much you want the sort of long, slow fuck that you feel for _days_ afterward. Not physically, but in your _soul_ , so that your breath catches when you think back on it, so that you can barely focus on anything but getting back to it. That’s what you want. You want to be in love so badly that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re already there.”

Jonah moved away as abruptly as he’d moved close, and Nicholas took a gasping, shuddering breath, as if he’d just remembered he should be breathing, reeling up against the bar behind him.

Jonah said, “You’re nowhere close. You don’t have anything you want,” and walked out.

***

Nicholas went to Jonah’s in the pouring rain, showing up drenched, dripping a puddle onto the hardwood floors of Jonah’s tasteful apartment.

Nicholas said, “You’re right. I don’t have anything I want. And I’m fucking tired of waiting for it.”

“Me, too,” Jonah said, and pulled him in and kissed him, wet and deep, until there wasn’t any breath left in him.  

 


End file.
